Layers of Love
AEIOU - Layers of Love
Allied,
Electrified, -
Inside
Outside
Unified
? 9 February 2007 robi3_1395_robi3_0000 AXX_LXX
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Unified
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
Weather youre a black man
Or youre a white man
Or your from england or from japan
Or youre from chili or youre and american
Youre from the middle east or youre and african
Well it could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
Now come on everyone on this place come together
Wouldnt it be nice if we could all live together forever
Finding our peach in unity
Destroying the noting of foolish vanities
Pull to rise
Lift the blinds
The funky dope is here in 1999
And were praising so were raising out of this oblivion
And on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on
You cant stop this with your mind tricks
Like neo in the matrix Im chosen
Uplift with the gift
Like gandolf the wizard
I conjure a blizzard of magic to ride it high
Unified unified unified
Unified unified unified
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
They dont want it in their government
They dont want it with their politricks
They dont want it with their brainwash
They dont want it with their money fix
Unified unified unified
Unified unified unified
I want it want it want it want it
It could be so nice but the world is not ready, yeah
It could be so nice but the world is not ready yo
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Layers And Layers
we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure
and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize
the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth
how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?
when you tell me that
i am myself.
there is no self.
There is no us.
There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now
Like a fruit basket
all naked on top of your table.
Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.
For the moment.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Take A Pick For The Moment
we meet i only have one layer
we talk and i added another layer
we discuss and i added more layers
we dive to a certain depth and of course
i have to add more and more layers
so i may not drown
so i may not be too vulnerable to pressure
and when we come out of the water
our faces surfacing you do not recognize me anymore
i have layers and layers of myself
that even me
i cannot anymore recognize
the violence within
this turbulence of the self
this storm inside us
this layers and layers of selves
covering the truth
how can i ever uncover
what my depths cover from time to time
when you utter my name?
when you tell me that
i am myself.
there is no self.
There is no us.
There is no future.
I have only the past
and My now
Like a fruit basket
all fresh on top of your table.
Just take one
The apple perhaps.
And fill yourself.
For the moment.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It’s February And Romance Is In The Air
It’s February and romance is in the air.
Shops are filled with things to give your lady fair.
Heart shaped items to express I love you
for both men and women to confess their love is true.
Someone somewhere is making a big fat profit out of this
and certainly isn’t me.
Florist jack their prices up just for Valentines Day.
In Fact, everyone does the same,
because they know only too well
people are going to buy them of pay the consequence,
and consequence could be nasty.
Therefore, if you see someone
with a rolling pin implanted in their head,
or a frying pan with a big dent in it
you will know someone has forgotten
and paid the consequence.
12 February 2007
poem by David Harris
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Second Sunday...
february is fickle
one gets inside a room, closes the door,
and spreads the mat and
turns off the light, but february does not
sleep, it boasts of love
till dawn,
there is an exit door at the left side
of the room
covered by a waterfall and
the sound of
birds mating, you know, calls, like that,
somehow, february is fun,
funny, makes the hearts of lonely people beat again,
dances under the moon,
begins to love again the rain at midnight
plucking rusty guitar strings
and kissing moonbeams
passionate as the
night blanketing the tall trees
erect to the
cold.
i like february, but i have none
for now.
the second sunday may prove
myself wrong,
she is coming, literally.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Layers
Above are layers of atmosphere, stratosphere,
Below layers of topsoil, rock and clay,
People in layers rich and poor,
Cities built on top of cities, on top of cities.
Layers of thought conscious to unconscious,
Felt in layers asleep to awake,
In a dream of a dream, of a dream in a dream,
In a dream of a dream, in a dream.
poem by Richard Jarboe
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Island Fever
Island fever
I think Ive got a touch of island fever
I do believe I feel a bit sauteed
This morning I was just some nonbeliever
Tonight I feel Ive joing a wild crusade
I never thought of life as being breezy
I never thought of time as time to play
I never thought that I could take it easy
But all those feelings changed for me today
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Are finding their way to my brain
Layers and layers of costumes and players
That make my whole life look insane
Palm trees and views I cant believe
Why would I ever want to leave?
I think Ill take my shoes off and go walking
Down beside the caribbean sea.
I like the funny sounds of parrots squawking
I think I hear a hammock calling me.
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
Layers and layers of spices and flavors
Could this be some kind of charade?
Layers and layers of costumes and players
I think I will join the parade
I think Ive got a touch of island fever...
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Either/or
either you go
and run free like
a child bathing
naked under the rain
or you wear all your
underwears
and coats and masks
and you hide inside
your room and lock
all your windows
and doors
and disconnect
the electric current
from your doorbell
these are layers and
layers of choices
but whatever that is
that you pick from the rest
that is still poetry to me
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Pair Of Earings 2
Just a piece of wire a heart and a knife
All hearing hung in a cave of senses
A prison electrified by my restless fingers
A wound undone nothing can unbrake
A final cut in which I will forsake
In valleys vast born in clouds above
The remnants of my God forgiven love
Just a piece of wire a heart and a knife
2007.
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Love’S Tale Retailed
Stars which preside our fates decide events which coincide,
laws causal slide, pause, glide, collide Cause/Effect’s effects wide.
Some in their stride take hopes belied, some stay unsatisfied,
some nationwide, unpacified, seek more than weak words snide.
Once bona fide I fate defied - love, life intensified,
personified by bonny bride who ecstasy supplied.
Electrified and gratified by life lived as joyride,
exemplified days dignified ignoring all divide.
No doubts inside could override my sentimental side,
till trite aside was verrified by witnesses worldwide.
Dissatisfied, one who relied on love unqualified,
is certified as mummified, emotions petrified.
New senses tried, old misapplied, change what words signified
“us” evil “I’d” turns when replied is pique with speak denied.
Life which implied love deIFied if IF’s re-placed, reads died,
spell rectified dealt spell defied, well meaning modified.
Lie clarified, hurt’s amplified while pain, disdain, abide,
ache’s amplified by scorn allied with sting intensified.
‘From love that lied ah woe betide! defend us, Lord’, some cried
in heart’s divide with trust decried, may laughter still abide?
Down turned upside, hope horrified, turned down, sound scope shanghaied,
towards lakeside humidified I’d drown all unfound pride -
but suicide undignified was ending cast aside,
unratified, when voice defied, let second thoughts decide.
Ideas allied with sense applied brief interlude has tried
to craft inside lines side by side aligned shall e'er abide.
As stanzas slide, to please, not guide, concludes brood versified
with loose ends tied, and [t]ease supplied one hopes none dare deride...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Hooray February!
I love February
because it’s a brewery
of chilly winter
and sunny warmth.
I love February
because it isn’t a cocky first;
but only a modest next
like how I always prefer
taking a second row chair.
Likewise my car, hello,
is not a Uno, but an Alto!
I love February
because it’s the baby
of the promising January.
And with that promise
February bears March
with all its vernal vibrancy.
I love water, aqua:
It’s the spring of life.
I love February
because I am an Aquarian.
I love February
because the holy water eponymous
purifies me and makes me vigorous
a la
Februa
the great Roman festival.
I love February
because it’s doughty,
has the will to survive:
From a long monthless limbo
to the twelfth place
then to the second
in the calendar -
it was a saga of freedom fight
in the hoary history of time.
I love February
because it’s a month of lovely violets
of diverse hues and scents galore
and
of amethysts that keep you sober.
I love February
because it’s the one month
that determines the leap
or otherwise of a year
shortie it is though.
They malign February as ‘hollow’ and ominous.
Don’t fib, I reply, it is ‘full’ and luminous:
I work for twenty eight
and get paid for thirty one.
Then isn’t it ‘full’?
No triskaidekaphobe,
I love the thirteenth
for it symbolises
the eternal crusade
against superstition
and discrimination.
God loves it too
for He has made the date
a rendezvous
of countless events
no less happy than any other.
I love Feb thirteenth
because I came into this world
on that unique date.
For me it’s always the first.
In their nineties and seventies
still going strong
on me shower my parents
a golden pot of blessings full.
Long live Februarians!
Long live humanitarians!
[Feb 11,2009: : Hyderabad - 500 056]
poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
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So many layers
every poem
i wrote
a part of me
taken off
a butterfly
leaving behind
its larvae
to take on wings
and colours
to explore the world
to give world
another layer
to fascinate over
van gogh
that shed
so many layers
to bring out
those layers
on his canvas
to our hearts
layers of pains,
tears, and......
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Life 101, Lovelines, and Vampire Satire
LIFE 101, LOVELINES, and VAMPIRE SATIRE
LIFE 101
SUBMERGE EMERGE URGE SURGE SPLURGE CONVERGE VERGE MERGE PURGE DIRGE SUBMERGE! …
AFTERLIFE 101
? DIVERGE: SCOURGE … REEMERGE?
Coining a Ph[r]ase
Love Lair’s Layers
Inside
Outside
CoincideConfide
Allied
Guide
Glide
Astride
Abide
but the other side of the coin might be:
Drier Dire Diary
Hide
Slide
Bromide
DerideLied
Snide
Override
Divide
Dire Diary Vampire Satire - cast in order of appearance
Admire shyer
Fire desire
Surefire squire
Sapphire buyer
Higher lyre
Require Choir
Friar, prior,
Aquire attire
Empire entire
Sigher suspire
Transpire perspire
Defyer briar
Spy highflyer eyer
Hire sweetbriar *
Conspire crossfire
Dire liar
Wryer denyer
Inspire ire
Wire umpire,
Misfire miss, fire
Bye-bye err, slyer
Retire, mire
Quagmire, expire
Pyre bonfire …
*Definition of sweetbriar
Eurasian rose with prickly stems and fragrant leaves and bright pink flowers followed by scarlet hips
17 January 2007
robi03_1576_robi03_0000 WXX_LXX
Poem © Jonathan Robin Life 101, Lovelines, and Vampire Satire
poem by Jonathan Robin
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If I Could Read Your Mind Love
If I could read your mind love,
it would tell me things
I want to know,
if your love is true.
If I could read your mind love,
it would tell me of your despair
that you hold within,
and maybe the solution of how to repair.
If I could read your mind love
what wonderful things
I would find there
of your love and how you care.
Sadly that’s not possible,
I can only guess
when you’re feeling low,
and feeling depressed.
14 February 2007
poem by David Harris
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You break me to your dismay.
Dear, should you want to see yourself,
You should not break my heart
For in its very mirror
You forever see your face.
Dear, should you want to see yourself,
You should not dry out my soul
For in its very pool
You for ever bathe your grace.
Don’t kill the lovers, who are layers.
16.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Flowing Rivers Of Time
the wilderness
of love spun
opposites
easily flip sides
spun
into mystic
joining souls
sung
in a paradise
of swift unified
bound soul locked
indivisible emotions
burn separate
personalities
within galactic
suns
span
cosmos
unified intertwined
as solar winds
flowing rivers
of time spanning
light years
touch journeys as one
poem by Terence George Craddock
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February Has Returned To Normal
After a week of summer sun
February returned to normal.
Grey skies to the horizon
and a light falling rain.
It is the February
that we all know so well,
and the sunshine
while it lasted
was an unexpected bonus to us all.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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There is fear as to whether Japan, reduced to such a predicament, could ever manage to pay reparations to certain designated Allied Powers without shifting the burden upon the other Allied Powers.
quote by Shigeru Yoshida
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The pink slip
At the bottom of the files it was kept there
April 2,2002
Remember the exact date
A pink slip
Among the yellow sheets
Inside the big brown envelope
Life does not complete the cycle
Without it
You want to forget it
You bury it
On layers and layers of sadness
Like sand and gravel and leaves and grass and rocks
It never dies
It shouts the truth that there was this coward
Inside you
Crying for justice
Looking for a redemption
Today you take that pink slip again
Touching the edges and
Rereading the story that it is telling
The words there are painful
It is only you who knows what it means
It is both freedom and vengeance breathing
Life again saying
Tomorrow, yes tomorrow that star
Out there shall soon fall
And your laughter shall be last
Reverberating
Beyond the four corners of
The pink slip
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Layers Of Wet Paint Applied
wet on wet paint on paint
layers of wet paint applied
to previous layered layers
technique requires rapid working
fevered fast compulsive genius painting
art in realms born in new mind expressions
art in realms born in space time multiversity visions
art work fever finished before first layers have dried
poem by Terence George Craddock
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